


Lines of a Hand

by ifwegettherebysunset



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Alternate Universe, Feel-good, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Reincarnation, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Atem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 17:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifwegettherebysunset/pseuds/ifwegettherebysunset
Summary: Two nights, thousands of years apart, shared by the same two people.





	Lines of a Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChatoyantPenumbra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChatoyantPenumbra/gifts).

> In the first part, I'm using the name from my Velut Luna piece (in my tumblr prompts work). Notes on it are in there.
> 
> the book that's quoted in the beginning is HIGHLY RECOMMENDED by me just sayin'. It's poetic and full of meaning despite its short length.
> 
> for CP, who needs a little healing <3

"The city, however, does not tell its past, but contains it like the lines of a hand, written in the corners of the streets, the gratings of the windows, the banisters of the steps, the antennae of the lightning rods, the poles of the flags, every segment marked in turn with scratches, indentations, scrolls."

Marco Polo, _Invisible Cities _by Italo Calvino

* * *

"Say my name?"

The thumb stroking his forehead does not pause. "Atem."

An invisible knot snaps in Atem's chest, easing out on a sigh. "Again?"

"Atem."

No one calls him by his name anymore. It's an ancient, unbreakable rule: the Pharaoh is a deity among men. To try to acknowledge him as a fellow human is a grave offense.

The Signers are children of a being as old as the Egyptian gods. They, too, are considered inhuman, though regarded by the majority as lesser than the Pharaoh.

Quyllur never cared about titles. To him, merit is the only way to judge a person. A _person_.

"Atem," he murmurs, leaning over him, "Atem, Atem, Atem."

Wreathed by the stars, Quyllur looks every bit the dragon he contains in his soul. Something otherworldly, something Atem, who truly is a fallible human, is unworthy to have. 

Their lips are cool from the chilly night. It's grounding and chapped. A crown means nothing here, in this private garden Atem's mother grew with her own hands.

"The guards are changing shifts," Atem whispers.

Quyllur smiles and helps him up. Atem leads him through hidden passages by the hand, deftly avoiding quiet footsteps and yawns in the corridors. What they have is new, but they're already experienced in sneaking to Atem's chambers.

When they're safely inside, Quyllur kisses him again, cupping his face. Atem can't remember the last time he'd been touched before the Signers' arrival half a year ago. No one deserves to touch _divinity_. So Atem melts, greedily wrapping around Quyllur's torso and tipping his chin up.

Eventually, Quyllur pulls back to gently usher him to the chest pushed against the wall. It's carved with Atem riding a chariot. Atem swallows as it's opened.

Quyllur removes Atem's jewelry, starting with the anklets. Atem's learned not to protest. Not that he wants to anymore, because Quyllur is so loving and steady that Atem's vision blurs.

The final piece is always the crown. Atem's head feels so much lighter, and his eyes hurt from rushing tears. He can't stop them this time. Quyllur wipes them away with the same care he'd given the jewels. He kisses his eyelids and Atem tucks himself under his chin and mutters weak apologies. Because he _is _weak, he's human, he's. He just _is_, when Quyllur's holding him.

"No," Quyllur says, rubbing Atem's back, "Cry."

He guides them to the bed, only pausing to kick off his sandals. There's no spike of expectation as they lie together. Atem puts his ear to Quyllur's heartbeat and bites his lip trying not to sob out loud.

Quyllur shushes him with reassurances and kisses. He doesn't let Atem thank him despite the great honor of a Pharaoh's gratitude.

It has been half a year and Atem knows he's in love.

He cries himself to sleep. Quyllur doesn't leave him.

* * *

Atem is born to Mutou Hiroshi and his wife Aya, who had met during a dig in Egypt. He is named after the man his great-grandfather spoke of constantly. Yugi Mutou had ensured Atem's name lived.

He has his mother's black skin and the hair his family's known for, blond bangs and all. There's a hint of red in his eyes, which his father claims hasn't been present in a family member since Yugi. He's a prodigy at Duel Monsters, though getting a D-Wheel license is a bit of a challenge. He's better at standing duels.

He remembers at an early age. His father shows him a picture of Yugi. Any version of Atem would know Yugi. Of course it's Yugi's blood that harbors him now.

He remembers everything else too.

Remembers Fudo Yusei's face and a shining dragon.

Neo Domino is a colossal, but Yusei makes a name for himself when Atem turns eighteen.

Despite the dangers that follow, Atem doesn't dare present himself. He doesn't know much about Yusei as he is now, or when he meets the past version of Atem. He also feels that Yusei and the other Signers need to fight their own battles. His time for heroics has passed.

Then the city starts disintegrating, and Atem knows.

Still he waits.

* * *

When the Signer Marks and his friends leave, Akakiryu gives Yusei one last gift. Memories.

A voice made of Sky and Earth and Void tells him there is hope.

At the same time, the news circulates about Jack Atlas and Crow Hogan moving away from Neo.

Yusei's working on Fortune when he's told someone is asking for him.

* * *

"Say my name?"

They're on a bench at Yusei's favorite lookout. You can see the stars from here. The night is warm and balmy.

The thumb stroking his forehead does not pause.

"Atem."


End file.
